


love, in its simplest form, is just devotion and affection; its how we care for others

by namedawesome (davethetennant)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, David just wants Killian to put on a shirt, Emma Swan is tired and stressed and Killian Jones just wants to wrap her in a blanket, F/M, Henry is still Henry, Neal is a dick, Neverland, Pan doesn't escape, Snow tries to get Emma and Neal together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davethetennant/pseuds/namedawesome
Summary: Killian watched as Neal bothered Emma, once again, about sleeping. It seemed like everyone in the camp but the Evil Queen and the Crocodile had tried. Except for himself of course. He would never presume that he could ever tell Emma Swan what to do. And, the thing about Baelfire, Neal, was that he was being too pushy about it to get what he was aiming for.





	love, in its simplest form, is just devotion and affection; its how we care for others

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a thing i came up with? this is my first CS fic, so let me know what you think?

Killian watched as Neal bothered Emma, once again, about sleeping. It seemed like everyone in the camp but the Evil Queen and the Crocodile had tried. Except for himself of course. He would never presume that he could ever tell Emma Swan what to do. And, the thing about Baelfire, Neal, was that he was being too pushy about it to get what he was aiming for. 

So when she huffed at the young man and stormed away in the opposite direction and set up her sleep roll, she told him that he better stay away from her right now or she was going to hurt him. For good measure, she turned away from the group and crossed her arms as she laid down, glaring at a tree. Killian smirked to himself at her attitude. He loved her spark, he probably loved everything about her, but it was probably her favorite thing. He noticed her mother staring at her, like she was trying to get Emma to look in her direction and looked like she was about to get up and encourage Emma to sleep once more (and if he saw the vein throb in her head one more time he would not save them from the wrath she would unleash).

He did the only thing he could think to do. He walked over to her, shed his coat, and placed it over her without saying a word. He went back to his rock and sat, watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had effectively stopped her mother from trying to talk to her, and, as she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled it up to her chin, he tried to hide her grin in a swig of rum. He was ready to mind his own business, but she called for him, her eyes on his. He thought she was going to give him his coat back, but she asked, “Could you… can you sit with me? While I’m resting?”

“Of course, lass,” he whispered. And he didn’t bring up the fact that she yawned when she said it. Nor did he tell her to rest easy or that he was there. He just sat near her head, and when she threw her arm over the bottom of his legs and rested her head on one of his knees, he placed his hand on her shoulder. He kept watch all night, he hadn’t slept since the night before they’d left Storybrooke. He’d promised her, that they would find her son, and that he wouldn’t sleep until they were all home safely. So he kept watch for the night, as he’d done almost every night.

He was watching the sky, waiting for morning. He was strategizing for tomorrow, he knew the lost boys and they way they fought. He could fight them single handedly (he smirked a little at the pun). He knew that the others were a variable he couldn’t account for, but he was determined to keep them all alive. He knew that he might not succeed, but he knew he would do his best. Except for the Crocodile, he couldn’t care less if the Crocodile survived. He was lost in thought, more than a few hours spent coming up with every possible outcome in the battle was planned for and thought out as much as it could possibly be.

A movement from the corner of his eye made him sit up straight and put his hand on his sword, but it was just the Lady Snow waking like she did almost every night. She met eyes with him and asked, “Is it time for the next watch? I could take over while you sleep… you can go lie down, rest your back.”

“It’s barely been a few hours, your highness. You should get some sleep, we’ve a long day ahead of us,” he replied. Not acknowledging that she was very obviously trying to get him away from her daughter. But Emma had asked him here, asked him to sit by her, and he wouldn’t abandon her while she was resting.

Snow rolled back over to sleep and Killian breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why she gave up that easily, but he was extremely glad she did. If it had come down to it, he would’ve outright refused to leave Emma’s side. She asked for him, and she would have him for as long as she’d allow it. He knew her mother had no idea that her daughter was sleeping peacefully for the first time in days, that she was using him as her personal pillow, that for the first time in days, her brow wasn’t creased, and she slept for more than an hour at a time. So he stayed with her, watching over her and making sure her sleep was uninterrupted. 

By the time first light was just touching the horizon, David had awoken and was just about to wake Emma when Killian stopped him. “Let her sleep, mate. She needs it,” he whispered as the camp began to rouse. He waited until everyone was awake but Baelfire, and then he shook her shoulder. It took a moment, but she stretched and stood as soon as she was able. Breakfast, such as it was, woke Neal and they ate quickly, and Emma made them start out as soon as they were done. She and the magic wielders went to retrieve Henry, while the rest of them prepared to distract the lost boys. Killian told them about all the fighting strategies of the lost boys and how they really shouldn’t be afraid to kill the “ruthless buggers”. 

So, really, he wasn’t surprised when he was separated from the others. He was, however, very surprised to run into Emma and her son as they were chased through the thick forest. As soon as he saw what they were running from, though he joined them immediately. The neverbeast was a formidable foe and he’d been the only one of his crew that had ever escaped with his life. So he encouraged Emma and Henry to run as fast as they could. And if the beast grabbed him just little, had a bit of a bite and took a swipe at him, well it was for Emma and her son, so he wasn’t going to complain about it. 

They made it to the ship. They were the last ones on the ship and he immediately put them to work as they boarded. Whilst Baelfire had done a semi decent job of readying the ship, it was still a piss poor job of it. So he had them all doing something, shouting orders and ‘helpful encouragements’ to everyone who was having trouble. Once they were airborne, he relaxed and settled into his place at the helm.

When he’d sent Henry down to his cabin to rest, and when he’d brushed off the thanks of Neal, Snow and David, and the lad of the hour himself, he settled in for the long flight home. And although he’d only flown in his ship twice, he remembered it well. He was lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear Emma come up beside him.

“Hey,” she started, and then she paused. She began most of their interactions this way, and he’d begun to realize that the key to them, was to let her work herself through her first sentence before he said anything. “Thank you… for helping get Henry back. And for helping us get away from that thing…”

Killian smiled gently at the expanse of sky in front of him. “Think nothing of it, Swan. Just glad the two of you are alright,” he said. He glanced over at her and offered her a small smile.

She stared at him for a long moment and then said, clearly trying it brush away the sincerity that had draped over them. “You should get some sleep you look beat,” she said with a small huff. “You want me to steer this thing?”

“I made you a promise, Emma,” he told her, now meeting her eyes fully. “I’ll not rest until you are your family are safely back in Storybrooke. You have my word on that, Swan…”

“So, what? All a pirate has is his word?” Emma scoffed trying to blow him off, to create some distance. 

He was done falling for it though. He didn’t have the energy to be anything but honest anymore. “No… just all I have, darling…” he told her. He watched as her eyes went wide, and knew if he pushed anymore, if he offered anymore of himself in this moment, she would shut down on him. “Go and see your boy, Swan. I’ll bet he’s been missing you.” She walked away, practically ran, taking a bit of his heart with her.

He was left by himself on the deck, finally alone. And with that, came the aches from his fight with the lost boys and the neverbeast. His side, where the beast had swiped at him, hurt more than any other part of him and he knew that he would have to deal with that first thing. Every time he moved it felt like he was being stabbed over and over again by something, but he knew it had stopped bleeding a while ago. Frankly, he was more than ready to collapse onto a flat surface, any flat surface, and sleep for about a week. Had wanted nothing more than to take Swan up on her offer, but he’d made her a promise, and he’d be loathe to break a promise to her. 

The next twenty-four hours passed in a blur for him, and they landed in Storybrooke to and entourage of people. Though seeing the Crocodile’s woman jump him like that had been… unsettling. He was trying to slip below deck unnoticed when Emma caught his arm, the one with the hook, the one that had almost been a snack for the neverbeast. He worked hard not to show any sign of pain and was proud of himself when he didn’t react at all, that she hadn’t noticed. He was so relieved, in fact, that he followed her when she started pulling him in the direction of the diner in town. 

The impromptu celebration of their saving of Henry was a pleasant surprise, but really all he wanted was to go back to his ship and lie down forever. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, so when Dan elbowed him in his side he couldn’t quite hide the surprise and pain that filtered across his face. The only person he’d been facing had been Emma and he saw her looking at him, her brow furrowed. Her brows raised, and she grabbed him again, by the same arm she had earlier, and this time he inhaled sharply as her fingers dug into him. He tried to pull away from her, but her fingers dug in deeper and he had to pry her hand from his arm. “Bloody hell, Swan! That bloody hurt!” he hissed at her. 

“I barely grabbed you!” Emma said, looking him up and down with her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” This time, she settled her other hand on his uninjured arm, because, yes, Emma Swan was tough as nails, but she would never want to hurt anyone, not even a pirate like him.

Killian stared at her for a long moment. He knew that she wanted, she wanted the truth and in this moment he cursed himself for never lying to her, never proving himself untrustworthy. “Just a bit… well, the neverbeast had a bit of a taste, love,” he told her, trying to glide over the fact that it hurt, that it was sore and was going to be sore for a while, he knew.

“What the hell, Hook!” Emma whisper-shouted. She looked like she was mad at him, which wasn’t really anything new, but he did hate it when she yelled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t important, love. We had more pressing matters at hand,” he told her, trying to distract her with a bad pun. He knew better, he really did, but he had to try. When she just stared at him, he sighed. “I was trying to get you all back home, Swan, excuse me for not informing you of a few minor injuries.”

“A few?” she asked. Her voice was hard, and he knew then that he was in some type of trouble. “You said it bit you!”

“Took a swipe at me as well,” he told her. When she stared at him, he sighed and motioned to his right side with his hook. “I’ll be alright is a few days, Swan…”

She just shook her head and grabbed his right arm, the uninjured one, and dragged him back through to the diner. “Stay here. I’m going to say goodbye to Henry and then you’re coming with me.” She left him without waiting for an answer and he watched as she made her rounds. When she came back around, she grabbed his arm again, and he saw Snow watching them with a frown.

He let her lead him to her loft, the one she shared with her parents. She brought him to the island in the middle of the kitchen and, as if she’d been doing it her whole life, disengaged his hook from his brace and pulled his leather coat off of him. She ordered him to take off his shirt, and he obeyed. He was just glad she didn’t take him to that blasted hospital. He took it off, along with his waistcoat, which, he was disappointed to note, was destroyed. He really hated wearing the red one these days… 

When it came to the shirt he hesitated. Aside from the many scars a pirate collected over the years, he knew it was going to be an absolute bitch to peel from the dried blood at his side. He knew if he hesitated any longer, Emma would tear it off of him herself and then feel guilty that she’d hurt him, so just as she reached forward he shrugged it off and let it hang from where it had been practically pasted to his side. He heard her curse quietly to herself as she watched the shirt just hang there, and before she could suggest gently peeling it away, or something equally time consuming, he grabbed it with his hand and gave it a sharp tug. It hurt, but not enough to really garner a reaction from him. He’d dealt with worse. 

She gave him an incredulous look and when he just raised a brow at her, she rolled her eyes at him. He probably deserved that. “Okay, tough guy,” she said, reached for his hook arm, and held up a brown bottle, “it’s not rum but it’s gonna hurt like it is.” 

That really should’ve prepared him more for the feeling, but it didn’t. Of course, he was more fascinated that this rum-like liquid was bubbling on the sight of his wounds. He knew that it wasn’t magic, but it seemed like it. He watched, as she grabbed a towel and brought it down towards the wound at his side. “Swan,” he cautioned her.

“What? You’re afraid it’s gonna sting?” she asked. She was frowning playfully, but he knew she just wanted to take care of him, or that she felt like she needed to. Because he’d helped her, and she wanted to repay him.

“Give a man a moment, love?” he requested. He felt her lean out of his space and allowed him self a few deep breaths. He nodded at her, and the feeling of… it hurt so much more than it had earlier, and he couldn’t help his yelp of pain. “Bloody, buggering fuck,” he ground out when she finally pulled back. 

She wiped at it with the towel she held, and he felt something shift within the wound. He flinched away from the cloth and she was frowning at him, this time it wasn’t as playful, but more worried. “It feels like there’s something in there…” she said, like she hoped it was untrue. 

“Aye, I think there is,” he told her. He looked down at his side, trying to get a better look as Emma turned away. When she turned back, she had a pair of forceps in hand and he sighed, more than a little resigned to his fate. She kneeled not quite in front of him and placed the bottle and forceps on the chair next to her. She wiped away some blood, more gently than she had before, and once again brought the bottle up to his side. He drew in a sharp breath as she poured it over the wound again and growled as the pain flowed over him. She was wiping the excess away and then, he watched as she brought the forceps up to him. He brought his hand down to rest at the place between her shoulder blades. She just nodded at him and apologized as she began trying to get ahold of the thing in his wound. It didn’t hurt so much at the start, but when she accidentally pushed it deeper, he let out a yell of pain and fisted her shirt in his hand.

“Fuck! Emma, no!” he shouted as she tried again and pushed it deeper. She pulled away and he was breathing a little harder. She was apologizing softly over and over. Gently, she wiped the blood away from the wound and she warned him when she was about to start again. She ignored him when he shook his head. He screamed this time and if he hadn’t flinched away he knew she would’ve had it. But he’d screamed and cursed and flinched away from the pain. 

Behind her, he saw the door open and watched as her parents walked through the door. “Please, Emma, no! Fucking hell, Emma!” and he twisted away from her breathing really hard. 

“Come on, I almost had it,” she told him. She didn’t seem to know her parents were there.

“Just give me my hook, and I’ll get it out,” he offered her, his voice rough. 

“No, you’ll just dig it deeper,” she told him, and then she leaned in once more and that was all the warning he had to keep still. 

He screamed in pain again, but this time he managed to keep still. “Please stop, Emma! Please, Emma, just- Fuck!” he growled out and when she pulled away from him with what they now knew to be part of the neverbeast’s claw. As she stood, triumphantly showing him her ‘prize’, he took a deep breath and told her, voice rough and tears in his eyes, “That bloody fucking hurt, Swan…”

She just sighed at him and told him, “We have to clean it one more time…” She sounded apologetic, so he’d give her that.

“No more,” he whispered, voice rough and eyes on hers. He was practically begging her. “Please, Emma…” he breathed, “no more…”

“I know,” she told him, looking into his eyes, “It’s okay…” And then she poured more of the liquid over his wound and he sobbed in pain once, coming to hide his face in her shoulder. 

“That was a dirty trick, lass,” he whispered into her neck, and he didn’t move. She didn’t make him either, and when she threaded her hand into the hair at the back of his head he knew he had to pull away, though he didn’t want to. So he did, just before Emma’s mother cleared her throat at them. His voice was still rough when he greeted them, “Hello, your Highnesses.” Emma looked at him with a weird face, and he told her, “Well they’re the Prince and Princess of the Enchanted Forest, so that’s what they’re called. Plurally…” When Emma just stared at him, he continued, “Or did they actually formally become the King and Queen? In that case your Majesties…”

“Did the pain go to your head?” Emma asked, smirking just a little, like she thought he was funny. 

“Perhaps a bit,” he told her as he sighed. He was just glad that she had stopped frowning. He took the claw from her as she started to throw it out and she looked at him incredulously as he pocketed it. As everyone in the room stared at him, he became a little self-conscious. “I need it!” he told them.

“For what, a new charm on your necklace?” Emma asked. She was still teasing him. 

Charming interrupted them, his voice a little strained, “Are you gonna put a shirt back on?”

“He can’t,” Emma replied. When Snow and David stared at her like she was crazy, and Killian smirked like he’d won something, she seemed to realize what she’d said. “Not-! He needs stitches, which I was going to take him to the hospital for.”

“I’m going to that bloody place,” Killian cut in. 

“Well, you’re bleeding so you have to,” Emma told him, like it was final.

Killian sighed. “I’m not going to let the man who tried to bring his brother back to life and failed stick any sort of needle in me if I have a say in it,” he told her and then crossed his arms. And then immediately regretted it because it hurt.

“Who even told you that story?” Emma sighed, frustrated. 

He knew she wasn’t really asking but, he had to answer, “I’ve met the man before, Swan… In the Enchanted Forrest…”

She sighed deeply. “You still need stitches,” she told him. 

“I’ll do it!” Snow spoke up. “I can stitch him up, I used to do it for myself all the time.”

Emma and Snow stared at each other and this time he cleared his throat to clear the tension in the room. Although last time there hadn’t been any tension in the room, just him and Emma being… close. He was beginning to think the Queen didn’t want him around her daughter. 

So he let the archer stitch him up, and when she asked what happened he was planning on not really telling her, but Emma beat him to the punch, “He saved me and Henry from a huge tiger thing.”

“A neverbeast, love,” he told her, “and I didn’t really save either of you, just managed to get myself hurt.”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes, “you pushed Henry out of the way and made sure we got out of there. Was that when you got hurt?” She was watching him, her brow furrowed once again, and he was, once again reminded that he was putting more stress on her in this moment.

“Well, yes,” he said and at her stern look he continued, “It did get me twice lass. Once with Henry and the other right before we left the forest…”

“When you said you tripped,” she glared at him.

“I did trip,” he told her, “That’s how the bastard got me…”

Emma sighed, and Snow quietly thanked him for saving her family. He merely grunted as she jabbed him particularly roughly. He watched David as the man crossed his arms and stared at him, but as always his eyes were drawn to Emma. She was watching her mother sew him up knowing at her lip, like she was worried.

“Sorry, its not the best job! I’m not a doctor, so it won’t look as pretty as it should,” Snow said as she pulled back. All fake cheer and smiles.

He offered her a curt smile, “What’s another scar to a pirate?” And when he saw her frown at him, saw them all frown at him, he added, “These particular ones were for good reason, so I can’t bring myself to regret them…” Snow covered his side in a bandage, and then stood quickly. He was about to awkwardly ask for his things and head back to his ship, when Snow started picking up his discarded items. He saw Emma grab his hook, that was resting on the counter, before her mother could. 

“Well, thank you, Hook,” Snow said. “Will we see you around?” She was looking between him and Emma, like she was worried.

“Yeah, you will,” Emma interrupted. “He’s sleeping on the couch. David, he’s going to need one of your button ups. A soft one.”

Snow looked at Emma like she was angry at her, or at least concerned. But Emma didn’t back down, so when David came back with a soft shirt for him, he let her help him into it, but she didn’t help him button it, so he left it open, only grimacing slightly at the pull to his side. Quite suddenly, his energy was waning, and all he wanted was to sleep, so he let Emma settle him onto the couch. He watched her as she sat by his hip, and she asked him if he wanted her to take off his brace. “No,” he told her. She just nodded, covered him in a blanket, and headed upstairs. 

He watched her walk up the stairs, but his eyes were drooping as he was laid there. The week of sleep deprivation had finally caught up with him, and the pain he’d just gone through had drained him. Her feet going up the stairs was the last thing he was aware of. 

His eyes snapped open the next morning the first thing he saw was the Queen making something in the kitchen. He sat up and tried to stretch and immediately regretted it when it pulled at his side. His aborted scream of pain brought Snow’s attention to him. She fluttered around him for a moment while he tried to get his breath back, and eventually she realized that he was fine. He sat there for a moment, knowing it would hurt when he decided to stand, so instead of stalling any further, he made his way over to the kitchen.

He looked around near his tattered shirt and couldn’t find his hook, so he asked Snow, “Where’s my hook? And my coat?”

Snow looked at him, her lips in a thin line and, told him, “I think Emma took your coat upstairs… She probably has your hook, too.”

Killian huffed out half of an amused and irritated breath, “I’ll give her my bloody hook for her birthday…” And when Snow looked at him like she thought it was a threat or an innuendo, he sighed, and explained. “She’s always taking it from me.”

Snow just nodded at him awkwardly, and he sighed. He knew this was going to be an awkward morning, and he should’ve insisted that he go back to his ship. Before he could lament any longer, Emma comes down the stairs with his coat. “Any chance of getting those back from you, Swan?” he asked a smirk on his lips. 

Emma just smirked back and asked, “Any chance of you buttoning that shirt?” He just shook his head, but he buttoned a few buttons, just to appease her. “You gonna be okay? With your injuries?” she pointed in the vague directions of his wounds. “Need anything for the pain?”

“I’ve rum for that, love,” he told her as she clicked his hook back into his brace. “I’ll be alright.”

“You want breakfast?” she asked. And before he could decline, his stomach growled and his face flushed pink. Emma was watching him in wonder, smirking just a little, and before he could excuse himself, she teased him, “I didn’t know you could blush!”

She was in a playful mood this morning, so he decided to join in. “Well, love, only for beautiful women and only in the morning.”

She just smirked at him and shook her head. Then, she helped him into his coat and told him she’d take him to Granny’s. 

“Oh, do you want me to tell Neal to meet you guys there?” Snow asked. 

Emma just opened her mouth and stared at her for a minute. “Why would I want that?” Emma wondered aloud, more than she responded to her mother. Before Snow could answer, she shook her head, “No, Mary-Margret, I don’t want you to tell Neal that I’m going to Granny’s.”

“But don’t you think he has a right to know?” she asked. And Kilian knew that was a bad idea. 

“He doesn’t have a right to my business,” Emma said simply, with a hint of finality.

Snow just pursed her lips and in that moment, Killian wished to be far away from this situation, but Emma was holding onto his arm, hadn’t let go of his arm, and he couldn’t bring himself regret that. “He’s the father of your child, Emma,” Snow said. 

Emma’s face closed off. “That still doesn’t give him a right to my business. He doesn’t need to be around me twenty-four seven, the only thing he needs to do is be there for Henry.” She turned away from her mother and tugged him towards the door. He didn’t remind her that the arm she had a vice grip on was the one she’d patched up the night before. 

Once they were out the door, her mother calling after her, she loosened her hold and he couldn’t help the hiss he let out at the release of pressure on his injured arm. “Fuck,” Emma said, and then she was touching his arm through his coat, “sorry, Hook, I forgot!”

“It’s alright, lass,” he told her. And it was just because it was her. They walked in comfortable silence all the way to Granny’s and the looks they got when they walked through the door ranged from awkwardness to surprise.

They had barely sat down, when Neal showed up at their table. He was about to sit next to Emma when she held up her hand and said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Snow said to come and meet you guys here,” he shrugged, and he smiled that half smile he always had. Killian had always thought it was kind of shifty, especially on a child. It was even more shifty on him as an adult.

“She was wrong,” Emma said simply. She turned back to Killian and asked him if he needed help deciphering the menu, but he just shook his head. 

“Emma, what the hell?” Neal started but Ruby came by and he got interrupted while Emma ordered them both coffee. “Seriously, Emma,” he started, louder now than he had been, and some of the noise in the diner died down. Emma looked up at him, unimpressed as he continued, “She tells me one thing, you tell me another… are you playing hard to get?”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said. “Mary-Margret needs to stop meddling in my business and you need to get the hell away from me.”

Killian smirked into his coffee mug as Ruby dropped it off. He loved it when Emma was fierce. He watched as Neal’s face turned red, and then he huffed, “Come on, Emma, what are you doing? He’s a filthy freaking pirate! You can’t trust him!”

Killian looked down at the table and clenched his fist. He knew he was nothing but a pirate, but he was trying to be a part of something like Emma had offered him. “And I should trust you instead? Trust the man who let me go to prison for his crime and left me all alone because Pinocchio told him to?” Emma asked, and if she was annoyed enough to air her dirty laundry publicly, Neal better watch himself. “Hook, has proved himself to me, so I’ll stick with my pirate.”

“You want me to make him leave, Ems?” Ruby asked, her sinister smile lingering on Neal, who actually looked a little scared. 

“He’ll leave on his own if he knows what good for him,” Emma said, not looking away from Neal.

Neal stood there and gaped at her. Ruby pursed her lips, “I don’t think he knows what’s good for him…”

Killian was having a hard time not laughing, so he distracted Emma by ignoring Neal completely. “I want bacon,” he told her. When she told him to get bacon, he looked to ruby, winked, and said, “Ruby, could I get twenty orders of-”

“No!” Emma told him sternly. Then she saw his smirk, “You can have two orders of bacon if you get eggs and toast.”

Killian chuckled and turned to the wolf, “I’d like eggs and toast and two orders of bacon.”

“Coming right up, Captain,” the wolf smirked. “Besides taking out the trash, what can I do for you Emma?”

Emma smirked and told the wolf that she’d take the pancakes and eggs, and “just for kicks”, she ordered sausage on the side. And, as if the world was ganging up on Emma that day, Snow and David walked in with Henry just as Ruby finished escorting Neal to his very own table, and very obviously threatening him to stay put.

“Emma can I talk to you?” Snow asked as Henry slid into the seat next to his mom and gave her a side hug. 

“Mary-Margret, we just ordered, and I’m hungry so later, okay?” Emma said. She looked like had a headache and that all she really wanted was to eat and maybe have some rum, but really only because it seemed like everyone had decided it was bother-Emma-day. She ticked her head in Neal’s direction and said, quite pettily, “Since you invited him to breakfast how about you sit with him?”

“How come he’s not sitting over here?” Henry asked before Snow could respond. But she had looked hurt, or offended, more than hurt, but Emma still looked exhausted and like she really wanted her damn pancakes (but Snow had backed off, she’d gone to David and led him over to Neal’s table). Ruby dropped Henry’s hot chocolate off, and took his order, which was thankfully short and easy (just pancakes and eggs) so all their food would come out at the same time. 

“Well, your grandma decided that your dad should make sure I didn’t get to thank Hook for saving our lives at least twice in Neverland,” Emma said giving Killian a pointed look, who looked down and played with the tip of his hook as he tried to escape both of their gazes. 

Henry lit up and grinned. “That’s right! Thanks, Captain!” he exclaimed. “Could we go on the Jolly Roger again someday? It would be really cool to go sailing!”

Killian grinned, “Of course, lad! It would have to be alright with your mothers and father, of course. But you’re welcome anytime… you too, Swan…” He watched as Emma smirked at him, and he was getting used to the expression on her face, and he was even more in love with her for it. Once their food arrived he watched Emma and Henry dig into their food with the exact same enthusiasm. With out thinking he reached across himself for the salt and pepper and immediately regretted it. The action pulled at his stitches and he grunted in pain as he fell back against the booth to catch his breath.

Emma immediately reached across the table to grab his hand. “You okay?” she asked quietly trying not to alert anyone else to his predicament. Henry’s head had shot up to look at him in shock and asked if he was hurt.

“Just a bit, lad, no need to worry,” he said with a smirk, tying not to show how much pain he’s in. 

“Did you pull a stitch out?” Emma asked. Henry almost jumped out of the booth and ran to get Ruby when Emma stopped him and watched as Killian shook his head. “How can you even tell?” she grumbled under her breath and he laughed as she smirked, realizing he heard. There was a moment of silence as Killian got his breath back. “Try to be careful,” she told him, and then smirked.

“Sounds like you’re starting to care about me, Swan,” he told her with a smirk of his own.

“Don’t push your luck, pirate,” she told him, finally moving back to her side of the table and releasing his hand. She moved the salt and pepper closer to him and gave him a pointed look. 

“Aren’t I your pirate?” he asked with a smirk. “You did say I was earlier, love…”

“Didn’t I just tell you not to push your luck?” she asked. She raised her brows and glared at him, but he just winked at her and then at Henry when the lad laughed at their banter. Emma grumbled under her breath and ignored the both of them. She let Henry ask as many questions as he wanted to, and Killian answered the ones that he could. Sooner than he liked, Neal came to collect Henry, so they could make their way to the boy’s school.

“Bye, Captain! I’ll let you know when I’ll be able to learn how to sail!” Henry said. He paused before following his father and added, “I’m sorry you got hurt helping us…”

“I’m not, lad,” he told Henry with a chuckle. “As long as you and your family are safe, I’ll not regret it.” He watched Henry walk out the door, the lad had a huge grin on his face and he was talking to his father about maybe spending time on the Jolly Roger. Killian remembered Baelfire as a lad, usually showing the same enthusiasm for sailing and navigating and reading maps. Killian wondered if Henry would be just as good at reading star maps and navigating as his father was. He looked over at Emma, who was shoving an oversized bite of pancakes into her mouth. He grinned at her, at how cute she could be without trying and his heart ached a little, knowing that she had been abandoned so many times when she was just… she was just absolutely precious. He felt his grin soften to an affectionate smile.

She caught him looking at her with a soft, fond smile on his face, and asked, “What?” in a gruff tone.

“Nothing, lass,” he told her, but when she put down her fork and crossed her arms, he just smiled wider. “You’re just precious, is all, Swan,” he told her. Her brow furrowed, and he had to stop himself from trying to smooth it. “Absolutely precious, love…” he finished in a whisper and went back to his food. He knew he scared her just a little by telling her that, so he finished his food in silence and when he was done, he thanked her. Before he could stop himself, he stood and placed a soft kiss on her head. When she met his eyes, hers wide and confused, he blushed deeply, noticed her lips quirk up in a smile, and scratched the back of his neck as he wished her a good day and hurried out of the diner. 

He cursed himself as he made his way back to the Jolly. That was embarrassing for the both of them back there and really he shouldn’t have done it because… he hated blushing, was really all. He went a deep red and it always lingered until he could get away from the situation. He really hated that he’d blushed in front of her like that, that she’d seen how red his face could go. He really hadn’t meant to do that, to kiss her hair like that, but she was just so precious, so cute that he couldn’t help it. 

When he got back to his ship, he pulled the claw out of his pocket. He had to get that blasted shadow off of his sail and keep it contained. He went to collect a pestle and put the claw into it. It was brittle which was what happened after they were detached from the beast and he was more than a little lucky that Emma hadn’t broken a piece off as she was digging it out of him. But it crushed easily, and he added a bit of water to make a paste similar to squid ink. This always worked a little bit better than squid ink, in his opinion but it was ten times riskier to get, so it was a little known secret. He suspected that not even the Crocodile knew about it, but it had been something he’d figured out many years ago in Neverland. It would trap the shadow indefinitely and keep it still and safe for as long as was needed. 

He carefully coated his hook and the inside of an empty crate, along with a lock he had in the hold. It was perfect for the job, so he was more than ready to get the shadow off of his ship. He hated the shadow, hated Neverland, and he hated that it was attached to his ship. For good measure, he’d coated his hand in what was left in the bowl so if the beast grabbed him, he would be able to fight back with more than just his hook. He climbed the rigging to the mainmast and stopped by the shadow attached to the topsail. He pulled at it with his hook, satisfied as the thing wriggled and then went rigid. He pulled at it until it took the shape of a shadow again and immediately smeared the rest of the paste on the shadow. When he got back down to the deck, he folded the shadow as much as he dared, and shoved it into the crate, locking the bastard in it. He hid it and then, he decided that more sleep was in order. Usually he would be fine with so little sleep, he had gone longer than a week in Neverland without it before, but the fight had taken a lot out of him and the couch at Emma’s home wasn’t quite what he was used to. 

So he went below and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn’t even bother to remove his hook. When he woke he knew it was only a few hours later, but there was someone on his ship. Someone he never invited on board. With a frustrated growl, he shot out of his cabin and growled at the fairies gathered under his mainmast. “Oi!” he shouted. “What the bloody hell are you doing on my ship?”

“Where’s the shadow?” the leader asked him. He’d forgotten her name, but he didn’t like her, he never had. 

“Safely hidden,” he growled, losing his patience. “What are you doing on my ship?”

“We’ve called the Sheriff,” she replied instead. And then she crossed her arms and demanded that he “hand over the shadow”. 

“You’ll not get that shadow any easier than I’ll get the answer to my question of what the bloody hell you’re doing on my ship!” he told her, his thumb tucked into the belt at his waist and a raised eyebrow. 

The impending battle of wills was cut off before it truly began by Emma stomping up the gangplank asking playfully as she stepped aboard, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

“Aye, love,” he grinned at her and then he threw a pointed look at the group of fairies trying to tell them that they hadn’t been polite when they hadn’t asked to come aboard. 

“What’s the problem?” Emma asked the group at large. She was standing with her arms crossed looking a little annoyed that she had been called away. She had probably been called away from her boy. 

“The shadow is missing and this,” the head fairy looked him up and down like he was something unpleasant, “pirate won’t tell us what he knows.” 

Killian just raised a brow at her and met Emma’s eyes steadily. He had nothing to hide. “Is it somewhere safe?” Emma asked him.

“Aye,” he told her. “Should be safe for over three hundred years or more.”

“Okay,” Emma replied, and that was that. She ushered the fairies off of his ship and came to stand in front of him. “You sure you have it secure?” she asked.

“Aye, love,” he said. “That claw you pulled out of me was especially helpful.” When Emma just gaped at him he told her with a chuckle, “It’s a bit like squid ink, but more potent and lasts much longer.”

“So you just stabbed it?” she asked him, her brow furrowed. 

“No, love, made a paste of it and got the bugger with my hook,” he held up the attachment and smirked. “I’ll keep the shadow out of everyone’s reach. Unless you’d like to take it, love, keep it in that brig of yours…”

Emma huffed out an amused breath and said, “No, you can keep it here…” She stared at him for a long moment and then asked in a soft voice he’d never heard her use before, “Your stitches looking okay?” When he shrugged, she sighed like she was heavily burdened and grabbed his hook and dragged him back towards his cabin. She sat him on the edge of his bed and started to unbutton his shirt. When he raised a brow and opened his mouth to say something, she gave him a look and he just smirked at her. She lifted his shirt away from his side, and looked at his wound, probing it gently with her fingers. He sat there watching her face go from a little worried to relaxed. He knew she’d been worried when he’d pulled at them in the diner.

“I’m alright, love,” he told her, smiling at her gently, fondly. He watched as she pulled back and he let his smile gentle further as she realized what she was doing. When she pulled away her eyes wide, he told her, “Go back to your family, Swan. I’m sure they’d like to be with you now.”

He watched her rush out of his quarters with a fond smile. He would wait for her, he would fight for her, and most importantly, he wouldn’t leave her. He’d support her like he always had… He was in this for the long haul.


End file.
